*A Muggle & A Wizard*
by tranquil light
Summary: Victoria, an unpopular adventurous Muggle, dreams of a different world, and Oliver, a popular adventurous Wizard, is glad to show it to her. Is it really what she's looking for? (Is better than it sounds). *CHAPTER 2 POSTED!* Please Read & Review!
1. Chapter 1 ~ The Muggle

1 Chapter 1 ~ The Muggle  
  
Victoria was an ordinary ten-and-three-quarter-year old girl with an extraordinary dream. She dreamt that she could get away from this world, and dwell in a place where things were strange and different, unlike the plain world she lived in now.  
  
Victoria was a very tall girl, with small, no-framed glasses and long, straight brown hair. She wasn't the smartest girl in the world, but she was very adventurous. Perhaps that was why people didn't like her so much.  
  
Her parents, who "accidentally" had her, put her away in a private school for girls so that they'd only have to see her during Christmas, Easter, and summer holidays. Victoria dreaded this school; it was full of smart girls, who had lots of class and didn't like Victoria because she wasn't as smart. They also didn't like her because they declared that she was "strange".  
  
The reason they declared her strange was because of the odd things that she did. One day during dinner, the most popular girl in school, Clarice, decided that it would be such a laugh to "accidentally" throw her dinner on Victoria. She went up to her when Victoria was almost finished and threw the plate at her; it was good aim; but, suddenly, amazingly, the plate had suddenly turned and around and hit Clarice in the face, making her the laughing stalk of the school. Victoria, however, had also remained unpopular; people were saying that she was odd and full of darkness. Victoria thought it was absurd.  
  
Victoria had also ruined the Hallowe'en Ball, where the boys from the nearby private school were actually invited. Many of the boys were sniggering and laughing at Victoria when told that she was stupid and unpopular. Then they decided to do a little prank. Two of the boys would pretend to like her. One of them would try to dance with her, while one would try to get her a drink. They would get into an argument and when Victoria tried to settle them down the second boy would throw the drink in her face. The prank worked perfectly, until the part where the boy would throw the drink in her face. The cup was right in front of her face (with the boy still holding it), when the boy had become frozen solid. The cup was still in her face, the juice threatening to come out, but the boy and the cup with it has become frozen. Victoria had been charged with four weeks detention as the boy was dragged away to the hospital, but as Victoria explained constantly, she swore she didn't know what had happened.  
  
Finally, after a long year it was the end-of-the-year in June ("Thank God," thought Victoria), and the train that took her from her private school to King's Cross had arrived. Everyone was saying goodbye to their girlfriends and giggling about the boys from the opposite private school next to theirs while on the train. Except Victoria. She was readjusting her glasses and carrying stacks of books and homework she had been assigned for the holidays. She had no friends so she couldn't say goodbye to anybody. Nobody even took a second glance at her.  
  
Although Victoria was very unpopular, she wasn't at all ugly. Her hair stuck in front of her face, and her glasses made her face even more hidden, but she was slightly pretty. Her parents took no notice, however; when she got off the train at Platform 9, they hadn't greeted her; they took her baggage and shoved it into the trunk and drove off without a word.  
  
She didn't mind, of course; she was used to being unpopular. The only person who wanted to talk to her was her next-door neighbour, Amelia, who went to a public school. They only saw each other during the Christmas, Easter, and summer holidays, but when they did, they had the best time together. They were both very adventurous and had no doubt that they was another world waiting for them, full of enchantments and magic far beyond their imagination.  
  
On the fourth of July, three days before her eleventh birthday, she had been playing with Amelia in their backyard, selecting a few sticks from the big stack of firewood and pretending that they were broomsticks.  
  
She was lucky that she had a high-fenced backyard; otherwise her next-door neighbour's son Thomas would be prowling around and laughing at them.  
  
Victoria and Amelia never knew why people always thought they were strange. They just had an imagination, and either people who were stupid to recognize that, it just wasn't acceptable, or Victoria and Amelia really were strange. Victoria didn't think she was thought.  
  
"And here's Amelia riding on her brand-new Firebolt!" Amelia exclaimed, zooming around on the long stick, curved and shaped like a broom. She had chocolate in her hand since that was their snack for the day.  
  
"Firebolt?" Victoria questioned. "How'd you think of that?"  
  
Amelia shrugged. "I don't know…just sounded like a cool name to me."  
  
"All right then!" Victoria smiled. "Here's Victoria riding on an identical Firebolt! They're both in a race…"  
  
"No! A game!" Amelia suggested.  
  
"Yes, a game…" Victoria agreed. "…by the name of…."  
  
"Speedy Broomsters!" Amelia cried.  
  
"Are you kidding me?" Victoria laughed. "That's a ridiculous name!"  
  
Amelia popped the chocolate into her mouth, and tried to do an impression of Victoria. "Whar you quidding me?" Amelia mocked through a mouthful of chocolate while still flying around on the broomstick. "That's wa ridiculouth namth!"  
  
"That's it!" Victoria exclaimed. "Quidditch!"  
  
"Quidditch?" Amelia asked, swallowing the chocolate. "All right then!"  
  
Victoria and Amelia began to play their little game of Quidditch, but while they were playing, Victoria couldn't help thinking, "This doesn't feel like it's made-up. It feels like it's actually real. What if it is?"  
  
"VICTORIA!" her father called from inside.  
  
"Yes father?" Victoria called back, throwing the sticks aside. If her parents had ever found out that they were using firewood for broomsticks and wands there'd be hell to pay.  
  
"It's time for tea!" her father hollered.  
  
"I'll see you later," Victoria waved as she hurried inside.  
  
Victoria settled herself down for tea in her large manor. She sat herself down in her usual large chair, which was so large that it made Victoria look like a very young baby. She cleared her throat since in her family, teatime didn't necessarily mean sit down for some crackers and tea. It meant discussing what the days events were.  
  
"What did you do today, mother?" Victoria said in a singsong voice.  
  
Her mother sipped her tea casually, swallowed slowly, and began. "Well, I was out assisting the gardener in the front of the manor, and I noticed that our next-door neighbours, the Malfoys, had gotten a new front patio." Victoria stopped listening and began to think of the Malfoys.  
  
They were very secret, and explosions and yells could always be heard from inside the manor whenever someone walked by. The Malfoys had a young son named Draco, who was very handsome, but Victoria had never talked to him before. He was never home during Christmas and Easter holidays, either; just during the summer. Victoria figured that he was probably in a private school as well, but one where you had the option of staying there during the Christmas and Easter holidays.  
  
When Victoria stopped wondering and thinking her father had already began. "…and Smelters comes up to me and punches me in the face! And I said, 'Hey look, you bloody prat, this is a football game, not wrestling' through a bloody nose and he gets sent off with a red card. I get a penalty shot and I SCORE 3-0 for France!"  
  
Victoria's father was a football player for France, and he was always playing football. "So…what did you do Victoria?" her mother said regretfully, as though dreading to hear the answer.  
  
"I was playing in the backyard with Amelia," Victoria replied simply, not wanting to share the details.  
  
"And what were you playing in the backyard with Amelia?" her mother pressed on.  
  
"Um, tag," Victoria invented. She looked down at her tea, as though fascinated by it and hoped her mother wouldn't continue to ask for details.  
  
"And who was 'it'?" she asked.  
  
"Um…Amelia was it most of the time, I kept running as fast as I could," Victoria lied, now staring down at her empty teacup.  
  
"What else did you play besides tag?" her father asked. Victoria sighed deeply. Her parents weren't fascinated in her at all, but always wanted to know everything during teatime.  
  
"Nothing else," Victoria insisted, as though trying to make them stop. "We just played tag."  
  
"Surely you must've gotten bored," her mother told her. "Playing tag for over four hours must have been boring."  
  
"It wasn't," Victoria said with a slight sharpness in her voice. She wished and hoped that they would stop, but they just seemed to be loaded with questions.  
  
"Are you lying to us, Victoria?" her father asked.  
  
"Are you being too nosy, father?" Victoria snapped.  
  
"Don't you dare talk to your father that way! You're grounded!" her mother hollered.  
  
"But…but…" Victoria spluttered. "It's not my fault! It's your fault! You're the ones who always wants to know about my fascinating life, which isn't at all fascinating! Maybe you should pay attention to me the rest of the day, and stop aggravating and bugging me!"  
  
"Stop that THIS instance!" her father roared. "Go to your bed – now!"  
  
Victoria felt her forehead swelling up. She hated her parents more than anything in this world. She looked at her empty teacup, and suddenly it rose up in the air, like her temper was, and flew against the wall. SMASH! The teacup smattered into a hundred pieces before their eyes. Victoria watched in amazement. How, all of a sudden, did the teacup rise without anybody touching it?  
  
Her parents seemed just as amazed. They eyed each other carefully in awe, and looked at Victoria. They both pointed to the stairs. "UPSTAIRS TO YOUR BEDROOM! RIGHT NOW!"  
  
Victoria walked as quickly as she could up to her bedroom. She had never gotten so angry in her life. Her parents didn't even greet her after almost a whole year of not speaking to her, and then they wanted to know exactly what she did that day, pressing on and on? Victoria couldn't tell them the truth of course, they'd get too scared of the truth. They wouldn't want their daughter inventing things and pretending to fly on broomsticks. They wanted a perfect daughter. "Well, a perfect daughter they're NOT going to get!" she thought as she stalked into her large room.  
  
She plopped herself onto her large bed and put her head into the pillows, as though attempting to strangle herself. But all she was doing was thinking. Thinking of that teacup. "What happened?" she wondered. "I didn't do anything to make that happen…or did I?"  
  
She turned herself to face her enormous window, which opened up to a balcony. Her parents were extremely rich, but right now she didn't want to have parents. She wanted another life. "A life in another world," she sighed. "If one exists." Little did she know, there was one that existed, one that wasn't far from her enormous window.  
  
********************************************  
  
Hello! This is the first chapter to "A Muggle & A Wizard", which will be a story about Victoria and the gorgeous Oliver Wood. For those who are wondering, Victoria is definitely NOT a Mary Sue, and I don't intend her to be one. She is not popular, she doesn't have any friends (except Amelia) and is not perfect. You'll find out more about that soon.  
  
Please, no burns or flames because this is the first chapter and I assure you it will get better as Chapter 2 comes up (and I hope that will be soon). The chapters won't be that long since I have other stories to worry about as well, but I hope that you enjoy it.  
  
Please read and review! I deeply appreciate that! 


	2. Chapter 2 ~ The Wizard

Chapter 2 ~ The Wizard  
  
Oliver Wood, a burly young boy, opened his eyes. He had been asleep in his bedroom for several hours, but woke up once again to his parents fighting.  
  
"Now isn't life perfect," he mumbled sarcastically as he twisted and turned in his bed. He glanced at his clock through his tired eyes. It was four in the morning. "How can my parents fight this long?" he wondered, trying without success to fall asleep once again. "Why can't I be where I belong?"  
  
Where he felt he belonged was in Hogwarts, where he had just ended his second year. Hogwarts was a school for witchcraft and wizardry, and Oliver Wood, who had just turned thirteen in March, attended that school. Oliver Wood was a wizard, and was very popular in his school. Many young girls thought he was handsome, so they followed him around all the time. Many young boys thought that he was an excellent keeper, so they followed him around all the time.  
  
He wanted to become captain for his school house, Gryffindor. He remembered, in his first year, when the sorting hat had been placed on his head and sorted him into Gryffindor. It was the house for the courageous and adventurous. When the sorting hat had been placed on his head, he was terrified. His parents told him he was a wizard when he was nine, but that he could only attend a wizard school when he was ten years of age.  
  
He knew what was coming. Spells, enchantments, different sort of things than what he had experienced in his younger years. But, still, he couldn't help feeling terrified.  
  
Now, as he came into the summer holidays after the second year of attending that school he wasn't terrified at all. He had learned fascinating things, and had made fascinating friends. He was amazed on how different things were than from his old elementary school.  
  
His favourite thing since attending that school was Quidditch. It was an extraordinary game, played on broomsticks, and he was obsessed with it. His least favourite thing was attending Potions class, taught by greasy and mean Professor Snape, but besides that, going to Hogwarts was heaven.  
  
And now he was in hell. Since he came back from Hogwarts he had been stuck with his parents, who had forbid him to ride on his broomstick because of all the "Muggles" that lived out there. "Muggles", as his parents explained, were non-magic folk, and even though they had no magical powers, they were evil, dangerous, and desperate people.  
  
Oliver didn't see anything wrong with them. After all, he had spent most of his life with them before he had been accepted into Hogwarts. And even though he promised that he would only ride it in the backyard, they had still forbidden it.  
  
Oliver's parents were nice and kind, but very strict. They had a wonderful yet small house, but Oliver longed for the wonderful and enormous Hogwarts castle, once again out of his parent's rules and commands.  
  
"Get out, get out right now!" he heard his mother cry.  
  
"But…but Janine, it's four in the morning!" his father protested.  
  
"I don't care what time it is!" Janine bellowed. "Get out right now Paul! This has gone far enough!"  
  
Oliver took off his bed covers and opened the door a tiny smidge so he could get a clear view of exactly what his parents were arguing about.  
  
"You know that this means everything to him, Paul!" Janine hollered. "And yet, you still do silly things!" She pointed to a small piece of parchment, which was almost burnt to a crisp.  
  
"I…I accidentally left my cigarette on top of it!" Paul insisted.  
  
"This is his book lists for the next term!" Janine cried. "How is he supposed to get his supplies now?"  
  
"He's not supposed to get his letter that early!" Paul told her. "He's supposed to get it on the thirty-first, isn't he?"  
  
"Does it really matter what date it's sent on?" his mother snapped. "I'm going to have to write a letter to Dumbledore to get another one because of my stupid foolish husband who leaves his cigarette on top of it and burns his book supply list to a crisp!"  
  
"Hey!" Paul exclaimed. "That rhymes!"  
  
"GET OUT!" Janine shrieked.  
  
Oliver closed the door and leaned against it. His mother was overreacting, he decided. It was a book list. He could get another one. And, like his father had said, he wasn't supposed to get it until the thirty-first of July. So, why did they decide to send it earlier?  
  
He heard a door slam. His father was sent out of the house. "This is going way too far," Oliver thought. "It's a piece of parchment and my mother sends my father out of the house. I need to escape. To get away. To 'get out' as my mom puts it."  
  
But when? Oliver was under surveillance twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week when his mom and dad were around. They always insisted that he come with them to their Uncle Randy's barbecue, and that he always came with them on little trips, such as the local shop to get some salt.  
  
Oliver had to plan this out carefully. He decided that he would do it after he had received a brand-new, non-crispy book list so that he could get his supplies. Then, he would take all of his stuff and ride on his broomstick towards Diagon Alley to get all of his things. He just wanted to escape from his parents, whom, he felt, were better off without him. Whenever he was around they would argue twice as much.  
  
On the last day of his second year, his train had arrived at platform nine- and-three-quarters in King's Cross. He looked out his window as the train was slowing down and saw his parents talking "mushy love stuff" as Oliver always said, and kissing each other soothingly and tenderly.  
  
When they had got into their car, a small, black Ford Anglia, they had began to argue. And it was always the same topic – Oliver. He was always put in the center of things, and Oliver, quite frankly, was sick of it.  
  
Oliver rustled around in his covers, making sure the plan would be perfect and feasible. He fell asleep easily after carefully working out the plan, and no yells could be heard the rest of the night. And soon, Oliver thought, he wouldn't be able to hear them at all.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
"Oliver! Oliver? Wake up…please, wake up…"  
  
Oliver slowly opened his right eye. His mother, Janine, was standing above him, holding a delicious plate of food.  
  
"Here's your breakfast," she said, putting it on the table next to him. "Do you want to eat it here or in the kitchen?"  
  
"In…in the kitchen," he replied sleepily. He threw the covers off of him and glanced around the room. It looked like an ordinary Muggle room, except for the many moving posters of Quidditch teams such as the Appleby Arrows, Puddlemere United, and England. There were stickers and signs of Quidditch and his pillows were also merchandise from Quidditch. He was a fanatic, and he was glad that his mom didn't stop him from being one. Not being able to fly his broomstick was worse enough. If he had to dispose of his favourite sport in the world…than he would be living a meaningless life.  
  
"Bacon and eggs…did you want that this morning or do you want something else?" Janine asked.  
  
"No…no…I'm fine, don't worry," Oliver told her. He dragged his feet towards the tile-floored kitchen wearing a Quidditch t-shirt and shorts as pajamas.  
  
"Did you have a nice sleep?" his mother asked, handing over some utensils.  
  
"Not really," Oliver admitted. "Your yells woke me up."  
  
"It wasn't all of my yells," Janine said obstinately. "He did some too." She jerked her head towards the door.  
  
Oliver put his fork down and looked through the small slot where the owls came through with mail. His father was asleep in an odd position. He was leaning against the door, and his left foot was positioned on the door knob. Oliver turned the doorknob from the inside and his father fell.  
  
"Sorry dad!" Oliver apologized and his father got up.  
  
"What'd you do that for?!" Paul cried.  
  
"I don't want my own father to sleep outside the door when he's got a perfectly good bed inside!" Oliver exclaimed. "And besides, the mail's coming."  
  
Two brown owls flew through the slot. One of the owls rested itself on Oliver's arm; one of them flew towards the kitchen counter, dropping a letter upon it.  
  
"Oh, it's the book list!" his mother exclaimed, petting the owl before it flew away.  
  
"Already?" Paul asked. "But just a few hours ago you were yelling to me about it, and now you already have a new copy?"  
  
"Well, I told Dumbledore it was an emergency," Janine told him, flushing a little. "What does your letter say, Oliver?"  
  
Oliver untied the piece of parchment from the other owl's leg. It hooted and flew off. Oliver read:  
  
"Dear Oliver,  
  
It's me, your mate Mark. You haven't forgotten about me yet, have you? I think this year at Hogwarts was great, but we should also try to get to together during this summer. My parents (I hate parents) have been kind enough to let you come over today. Hopefully, your parents will be kind enough to let you come over. You don't have to write me back, just try to be here in about fifth-teen minutes. If you don't show up, I know you're parents haven't let you. Hope you can!  
  
See you, Mark"  
  
A brilliant beyond brilliant idea had just struck Oliver. The missing pieces of the puzzle were all fitting together. The book list had come, only after a few hours. And now, he had gotten an invitation to his friend's house. He knew what he had to do.  
  
"Can I go mum, please?" Oliver begged.  
  
"Well, you're going to have to eat your breakfast first," Janine told him.  
  
"But that always takes more than fifth-teen minutes – he'll think that you haven't let me come!" Oliver invented, trying to make sure everything would work.  
  
"Oh…all right," his mother gave in. "But do try to get some food while your there, all right?"  
  
"Can I sleep over there too?" Oliver asked.  
  
"What? Are you a married couple?" his father joked.  
  
"No, we're not…it's just that I haven't seen him for a while," Oliver pushed them.  
  
"You saw him the whole entire year at Hogwarts!" Janine exclaimed.  
  
"Please?" Oliver pleaded. "I promise I'll be good," he added.  
  
"Fine," Janine finally said. "You may go."  
  
Oliver felt like doing five back flips to express his emotions, but thought it was wiser not to. Instead, he said a small thank you and headed towards the bedroom.  
  
"But you're not allowed to bring your broomstick!" Paul called after him.  
  
"Too bad," Oliver thought as he closed his door to prepare himself. "I'm taking my broomstick. And a lot of other stuff with it."  
  
Oliver opened his window before packing up his essentials – his wand, his key to his Gringotts vault, clothes, and other accessories. He put them all in a briefcase and then took a sleeping bag. He put his broomstick inside the sleeping bag and rolled it up so that the broomstick wasn't visible. "This plan will work," Oliver assured himself as he closed his door for the last day that year. "This plan has got to work."  
  
He opened the door and said his goodbyes, telling them that he'll be back at around noon the next day so that Oliver had a good head start in front of him. He closed the door, but instead of turning right towards his friend Mark's house, he turned to go to his backyard.  
  
In his backyard the window to his room, which was still open, was accessible. Oliver unraveled his sleeping bag and took out his broomstick. He mounted it and flew up to his window and jumped inside. Careful as to not to make any noise (he didn't want his parents to know he was there), he landed softly on the bed and gathered up the large briefcase that he had ready. If he took it with him before his parents would be suspicious of why he was taking a large briefcase with him. He tied the briefcase to his broomstick and flew off, closing the window, and escaped the hell that he was trapped in. Now, he was flying towards heaven, specifically Diagon Alley, and hoped that the rest of the plan would work out.  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
There's Chapter 2! How do you like it so far? As you can see, I entered Oliver, and he will be meet Victoria in the next chapter (I don't want to give away how, so I'll just tell you that much). Thank you all for the wonderful reviews. Here are the thanks:  
  
Deanna Malfoy – Thanks for the compliments. I think that Oliver would be perfect for Victoria too. I can't really answer the first question (since it might give away the rest of the story, but then again, it might not) but I can answer the second question. Oliver is going to be going to his third year, so he's already thirteen (his birthday is March 15th, like Sean Biggerstaff's is. Sean Biggerstaff plays Oliver Wood in the movie, in case you didn't know. I think you do though.) So, Oliver Wood is two years older than Victoria. Not much of a difference, really, if you think of Oliver and Hermione being together. Okay, I talk too much. Thanks for your review!  
  
gurl – Thank you!  
  
Juvenus – I'm glad you like it. And don't worry, I'll be updating this much more frequently than other stories. It isn't priority number 1, but it just seems easier to write than my Oliver/Hermione story right now so I'm going to work on this just for a little bit. But thanks!  
  
WeasleyTwinsLover1112 – I went and read and reviewed your stories, so I hope you appreciate it. I appreciated you reviewing! Thanks!  
  
Oliver Lover – You always review my stories, so I thank you. Thanks for the "Victoria is not a Mary Sue" bit. I don't want her to be one. She's just a girl…I guess. Oliver Wood is in this chapter, as you see. The first one was dedicated to Victoria, the second one was dedicated to Oliver Wood, and the third chapter is dedicated to both of them! So I hope you enjoy!  
  
Chapter 3 will be up soon! Thanks for reviewing! 


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